


The Drugs Don't Work

by suggsygirl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suggsygirl/pseuds/suggsygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A merry-go-round of drug based insanity...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Drugs Don't Work

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to rhosyndu for the beta. The message is don't take drugs people!

It was a mistake to take the offered drink, Sam knows that now. In 2006 he would have never done such a thing but something about the presence of Gene makes him drop his guard. The older man's very solidity makes Sam unobservant, not to the standards of the rest of the team, no, but by his own very high standards he's practically blind and that one lapse in judgement - a yes please, when he should have said no thank you - has lead to this. 

He must have been drugged, must have been. Nothing else can explain the colours and the noise and the fact that his skin is on fire with a thousand different sensations all clamouring for his attention at once. 

Time has started to misbehave, to become circular instead of linear and he has no idea how much time has passed since he put the drink back down on the disgustingly lurid coaster, started to feel dizzy and clutched at Gene like he was a lifeline. A day? An hour? He can't even guess and that worries him more than the lights dancing around his head.

The hideously familiar wallpaper tells him that he's in his flat, lying on his crappy little bed judging by the angle of the room. Suddenly the bed is spinning out of control, the walls shimmering and dissolving in front of his very eyes, and Sam is scared, little kid scared; all wide eyes and monsters under the bed.

The bed dips and a cool hand is placed on his forehead, the clash of temperatures making him shiver. He's burning up and feels nauseous but the hand is somehow soothing, a grounding point in his spinning world and he runs his fingers over the strong wrist, fascinated by the flex of tendon and muscle.

"I can't take yer anywhere," a voice murmurs somewhere near his ear, the tone reassuring yet jocular and Sam smiles at the familiar voice.

"Mmmm Gene..." Sam babbles, his voice fond as he tries to focus on the older man.

"Give me strength," Gene mutters under his breath, exasperation on show but merely on the surface; the undercurrent of concern a deep brook underneath.

"You're my strength. Strong, solid, dependable..." A torrent of words and Sam can't seem to stop himself, listing Gene's qualities as the man in question rolls his eyes.

"Who knew yer could talk even more crap than normal?"

Sam feels Gene's hand slide down his face and gasps with the intensity of this one small gesture, he can't help himself turning into the touch, nuzzling Gene's palm like a cat wanting to be stroked. Every sense is heightened as the fire of sensation sweeps through his body. 

He moans and it sounds pornographic even to his own distorted hearing, closing his eyes and putting his hands out to touch the maddening man in front of him.

"Hey Gladys, I'm not yer comfort blanket."

Sam hears the word 'comfort' loudly as though his brain is trying to make sure he gets the emphasis right and he repeats the word, rolling it round his mouth and playing with the sound. It's funny that Gene should highlight that word because it's exactly true, comfort is what Gene is to Sam and the thought makes him giggle, a light, tinkling sound that makes Sam think of broken glass.

A soft material covers him and Sam inhales deeply, the scent of Gene filling his lungs as he realises that the Guv has covered him with the camel hair, he feels ridiculously privileged that Gene would do that. Rubbing the soft fabric against his cheek, he murmurs, "Smells nice," and smothers himself in the coat, pretending not to hear Gene's soft laughter.

"Always knew you 'ad a thing for me coat, yer great nancy."

Sam frowns and gets instantly upset. 

"M'not a nancy, I'm just happy, or should that be gay?" Giggling at his own play on words, Sam goes back to nuzzling the coat.

"Go to sleep, yer gonna want to kill yerself tomorrow," Gene says, talking to Sam like he's a small child.

Thrusting his lower lip out as far as it will go, Sam shakes his head and reaches up to Gene, stroking his hand down the older man's arm and feeling the hair, crisp under his palm. Sleeves rolled up, Sam notices the green of his shirt, the colour making his eyes seem luminous in the dim light.

"Favourite shirt, makes you look gorgeous," Sam says sleepily, his voice slurred.

"I'll forget yer said that Tyler for both our sakes."

The atmosphere has changed and Sam doesn't know why, he's always thought Gene was gorgeous, just being near the man makes him hard and telling him seems like a good idea but this new tension is upsetting. He doesn't want Gene to be angry with him, wants to please him, he's always wanted to please him and sometimes he can barely stop himself from touching the older man; can't stop himself now.

Grabbing a firm grip of Gene, Sam pulls him downwards hard, the sudden weight heavy on his chest. Sam wraps his arms around the Guv's neck, feels hot breath ghosting over his ultra sensitive lips as they remain nose to nose.

"Don't do this Sam," Gene pleads but makes no move to break free.

Feeling like he's stood on a cliff, Sam blinks once, twice and jumps; his lips crash into Gene's and he tastes of whiskey and cigarettes and attitude and Sam can't get enough. His tongue dances in Gene's mouth and this has to be the most unreal part of the whole situation, it feels better than he could have imagined - and he's spent a long time imagining. Gene is kissing back, running the very tip of his tongue along Sam's bottom lip and it shoots electricity straight to his cock and he's instantly as hard as steel.

Gene starts to pull away and Sam is pleading as soon as his lips lose contact with the older man's, "No, no, no, come back."

"Can't. Yer high as a bleedin' kite."

"No. God I want you, please don't stop. Please..." Sam whines, trying to capture Gene's lips again.

Staring into green depths, Sam grins as Gene murmurs, "Fuck it," and dives back in for another searing kiss, the touch of the older man's lips burning hot. As the kiss gets increasingly dirty, Sam grinds his erection against Gene's firm thigh, panting into his boss' mouth, his heart now pounding in an entirely pleasant way. Hands groping every inch of skin he can reach, Sam starts to hear music playing in the distance and he's unsure whether it's in his own head.

They kiss for a long time, lazily, languidly and Sam could do this forever; wants to do it forever. 

Sam opens his eyes slowly, he can't remember falling asleep but the fact that he's waking up says that he did. 

His flat is empty and his head is throbbing, his mouth so dry he can't swallow. Looking around the squalid room, Sam takes a deep breath as fragments of memories start coming back. Gene's body pressing against him, hot lips covering his own as hands grope desperately, seeking pure sensation.

Sam groans as he remembers telling Gene that he's gorgeous. He doesn't regret it for a moment but his working life is going to be hell.

Stumbling around, pulling clothes over his small frame, Sam prepares himself for the station, wondering how Gene will handle the situation. Half of him is intrigued, the other half filled with cold dread.

As he walks into CID, the whole room stands and applauds him. Sam didn't know it was possible for applause to be sarcastic but he's proved wrong as the sound rings around the concrete monstrosity of a building.

"Feelin' better boss?" Chris asks, smirk plastered across his face as Ray elbows him from behind, encouraging the insubordination.

"Yes, thanks," Sam replies wearily, knowing the worst is to come.

"Tyler! In 'ere now." Gene bellows from his office as Sam gulps audibly.

The walk to Gene's office feels like the Green Mile, the distance lengthening with each stride until it seems like he'll never actually make it. Eventually though, he's closing the rickety door behind him and standing in front of his DCI, the older man's expression unreadable.

"Yer come down from yer trip Gladys?" Gene asks jocularly, voice teasing but tentative.

"Yes." Best keep it simple, interaction to a minimum until he knows how the land lies.

"Do yer remember anythin'?" 

Sam hears hope and can't help smiling as he answers, "Yes."

"Thank Christ for that."

Gene exhales loudly and reaches for the scotch bottle, taking a quick drink before shutting it back in the drawer and standing up. 

Sam feels his heart start to pound and his breathing quicken as Gene stalks towards him in the small office, his walk heavy with intent. Grabbing Sam by his lapels, he slams him in to the filing cabinet and yells for the benefit of the listening crowd, "Don't you dare waltz in 'ere, lookin' like crap after trippin' yer arse off when yer supposed to be workin'," slamming him again for good measure before bringing their lips together in a bruising kiss that speaks of desperation and need.

Pulling back from the kiss, Gene whispers directly into Sam's ear, "I were a gentleman last night, I won't be tonight."

Sam shivers with anticipation and thanks god for LSD.


End file.
